


dust and old memories

by RedRoci



Series: by the roads we walk [1]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, triggers will be tagged in chapter notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:02:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22833733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRoci/pseuds/RedRoci
Summary: If you're gonna shoot somebody, you'd better make sure they stay dead; or: Courier Six thinks she will cause problems on purpose.
Series: by the roads we walk [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641445
Kudos: 1





	dust and old memories

She’d always heard there’d be a light. Didn’t expect it to be so bright it hurt, though. Wasn’t the hurt supposed to stop once you died? Theology never really was her strong suit. After a moment, though, the light resolved itself into a lightbulb, attached to a ceiling fan. Not dead, then. She was pretty sure she’d died, too. A very distinct memory of a man in a loud suit shooting her in the head. She tried to sit up, but the room started to spin. 

“You're awake, how ‘bout that. Woah, easy there, easy. You've been out cold for a couple of days now. Why don't you just relax a second, get your bearings? I'm Doc Mitchell, welcome to Goodsprings.” 

She squinted up at the source of the voice. Older, maybe in his 50s, gray hair and a mustache. Friendly, open face. “What happened?” It felt like a silly question, for some reason, but it was all she could think of. 

“Well, you went and got shot in the head and buried in a shallow grave. Lucky for you, ol’ Victor happened to be passin’ by. Now I dug the bullets outta your noggin, but you were touch-and-go for a few days there.”

She managed to sit up, and put her head between her knees in an effort to stop the dizziness. “Thought I was dead…” she mumbled, more to herself than to the doctor. 

“Well, you was pretty close. Mind tellin’ me what happened to ya? Or your name, how about we start with your name?”

She opened her mouth to answer and realized...she didn’t know. Her name? She didn’t know her name. He must have seen the panic in her eyes, because he held up his hand and said, gently, “It’s ok, kiddo, it’ll come back to ya. Perfectly normal side effect of head injuries.” He handed her a glass of water. “You drink that, and then if you’re feelin’ up to it, I got some questions to ask you, maybe see if we can find out just how much them bullets rattled your brain.” 

Cognitive function seemed to be pretty good, Mitchell reckoned, given she’d taken two bullets to the skull. She could answer basic questions clearly and coherently, didn’t seem to be suffering from any vision or hearing impairment. Still complained of dizziness when she stood up or turned around too fast, but that would pass. Probably. Still couldn’t recall her name, though it seemed like it had been on the tip of her tongue a couple of times. She was starting to get antsy, being cooped up. There wasn’t much more he could do for her, really. 

“Here, this was all you had on you. Hope you don’t mind, but I went through it while you was out, hoping there might be some clue as to who you were.”

“Thanks, Doc. Find anything?”

“Sorry, kiddo. Looks like you’re a courier, but that’s about all there is.” 

She read the invoice over a couple of times.  _ Courier Six...Platinum Chip… _ Courier Six felt familiar. As for the chip...the man in the suit had been holding one. She was pretty sure he’d taken it from her. She couldn’t remember what all the fuss was over it, though. Seemed like a silly thing to go shooting someone over. She looked up to see Doc Mitchell watching her carefully.

“Jog any memories?”

“Nothing new. Where’s the nearest Mojave Express office?”

“Down in Primm, I think. Ain’t too far, but I’d recommend sticking around town a couple more days, just in case.”

“Think anybody in town knows anything about the guy that shot me?”

“Best bet is probably Trudy, down at the saloon. Most everybody stops through there, if anybody knows anything, it’ll be her or Sunny.” 

“Thanks for patchin’ me up, Doc.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just...Try not to get killed anymore, will ya?”

She laughed at that. “I’ll do my best, Doc.” Shouldered the backpack he’d handed her -- _ her _ backpack, she guessed-- and walked out into the bright desert sunshine. 


End file.
